


Tangled Up With You All Night

by Paraxdisepink



Category: Captain America (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paraxdisepink/pseuds/Paraxdisepink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve couldn't join him on those blood-stained missions—he didn't have the stomach or the skills—but he could give him this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tangled Up With You All Night

Bucky was sitting by himself in the dark, hurling knives into the trunk of the old oak tree growing beside the house they had been given for quarters. He'd been quiet since he got back from 'scouting' and though he was too well-trained not to sense Steve coming up behind him, he didn't acknowledge him with the usual grin or smart remark.

Steve frowned. It hadn't escaped him how long Bucky had spent cleaning himself up while Steve set up a perimeter around the village for the night, but he had learned by now that he wouldn't get the truth if he tried asking how bad the mission had been. Bucky had made it clear without saying a word that he didn't want him asking at all, and according to Toro, Bucky didn't let on to him either.

It made Steve sick. Barely eighteen and Bucky's knife throws never missed their mark even in the hard wind. Tonight his job had been to clear out any enemy lurking in the woods because Captain America couldn't be seen slitting throats. But Bucky was the best at what he did and what he did was as much or more a part of what the free world needed to win this war than Captain America. Or so Steve had to keep telling himself, and so they kept telling Bucky mission after mission.

Coming closer, he laid a hand on Bucky's shoulder. His skin was cold where he wore nothing but khakis and an undershirt, red and blue costume stripped away.

"Time you got some sleep, soldier." Steve deliberately stroked his thumb across the back of Bucky's neck and walked off. Anyone still outside their own makeshift quarters was too far away in the shadows to hear, but Steve still wouldn't risk coaxing him to bed outright and let one of the fellas catch on.

Bucky got the hint, yet stealth was too ingrained in him after two years of sneaking around the enemy to get up and follow Steve right away. Steve waited inside the door of their tiny house and heard Bucky's footsteps a few minutes later, so light he wouldn't have caught them at all had the serum not enhanced his hearing. Bucky closed the door and latched it, and just like that Steve was folding his slight body in his arms, Bucky's hands on his shoulders, pulling himself up on tiptoe to bring his mouth to his.

He kissed Steve hard, stirring up the kind of impatience in Steve's body that brought him back to the reality that he was twenty-one and not a hundred years old with the weight of the whole war on his shoulders. But this time Bucky's hurry was all desperation and that was enough to tell Steve the mission had been especially bloody. Steve ran a hand down his back over too much wound-up muscle, circling it over his ass and bringing them closer together.

Letting out something between a moan and laugh against Steve's mouth, Bucky rolled his hips into him. "Making promises, Cap?"

Steve gave his ass a squeeze and murmured, "That depends. You making offers?"

In truth, Steve was asking permission and Bucky knew it. He kissed him harder, hands slipping under the hem of Steve's undershirt, rough from so much scrubbing. But they could have scraped Steve's skin raw and he wouldn't have cared. It had been a couple weeks since they'd had time for this. The fighting had been hell, and maybe he was supposed to be above admitting it, but he needed this as much as Bucky did.

Steve lifted him up and Bucky's legs wrapped tight around him, strong for his size. He ducked his head, biting Steve's shoulder, clawing to get his shirt off. Steve's cock pounded with the thrill of Bucky's hunger for him, but he pulled back. 

"Slow down, Buck." 

Bucky flashed him his familiar grin in the dark. "I don't do slow, pal."

That was the problem. Bucky never let him take his time. He would pull away and rush to take charge whenever Steve tried. Steve would have to be an idiot not to see the missions taking their toll, that afterwards Bucky couldn't stand caring hands on him or the things Steve was willing to do to make him feel good, that Bucky felt undeserving.

He would never admit to any of it, and so Steve pressed him against the wall, pinning Bucky with his weight and prying his hands away from trying to tear his shirt off. "Do it for me." 

Steve kissed him good and thorough before Bucky could say a word. He kissed him until Bucky shook a little and seemed at a loss for what to do with his hands. Bucky tilted his head back against the wall and Steve kissed along one side of his neck and up his throat. Bucky let out a muffled moan, but he knew better than to make too much noise. 

"Steve, come on," he breathed. "We don't have that long."

"Quiet, Buck." Steve gave him another kiss. "You're the one who told me I needed to have more fun." He slipped his hand under Bucky's shirt, hard muscle tensing as he dragged his fingertips across Bucky's stomach. The shirt went over his head and onto the floor a moment later. Steve opened his pants, closing a hand around his cock and squeezing and stroking him until Bucky leaned forward and bit his shoulder to keep the sounds in. Bucky liked this, liked when Steve saw through his protests and give him what he thought he needed. He just didn't think he was worth it.

But he was hard and wet in the heat of Steve's palm and doing his best to rock into his grip. And he was right. As much as Steve could make a night's-long onslaught of driving him crazy the way Bucky did to him when he wanted his kicks, the truth was they didn't have all night. All they had were these moments in the dark or in some tiny tent between the fighting and that inevitable someone coming to look for one of them.

Turning him away from the wall, Steve carried him into the house's lone, tiny bedroom. He laid Bucky on his back on the bed and grabbed the vaseline he'd left on the pillow. Bucky helped him get his pants off, twisting in that sinuous way he moved that only made Steve hard right now. He slicked his cock and then he was easing hot inside him, bent over with one hand on the bed, standing on his feet, while Bucky clamped his thighs around him and pulled him deeper.

It took all that careful discipline that came with the mantle he had to carry to hold back. He wanted this to last as long as it could. Who knew when they'd get another chance. Steve moved in him so slow the bed barely creaked. Bucky rolled his head back, holding in sounds he couldn't risk letting out. His legs shook and tightened around him and he clawed his fingers into Steve's forearms, sweat shining on his too-pretty face. He came, arching off the bed, and Steve let go with him, letting go of everything from the fighting. He felt ten times lighter, relieved, and human for once in how drained he was.  
Bucky lay there flushed and naked with a dopey smile on his face, looking much more relaxed than he had since before he'd gone out. He even let Steve clean him up without stubborn complaining that he didn't need to be babied.

Steve cleaned himself up and stretched out next to him, gathering Bucky against his chest with an arm around him, running his fingers through Bucky's curly hair. For a moment, Bucky looked like he might pull away, as if he wasn't supposed to let himself be touched like something precious, but he was too tired to move, and maybe after crawling around alone out there he felt safe against him, like he needed. Steve couldn't join him on those blood-stained missions—he didn't have the stomach or the skills—but he could give him this.

"Just go to sleep, Buck," Steve murmured. "I got you."

Bucky started to roll off him, to seek an acceptable distance on the other side of the bed, but Steve tightened his arm around him and kept him close. 

"Someone could come in," Bucky protested.

"I don't need that much sleep. I'll roll you over first sound I hear." 

He didn't say that he wanted to watch him sleep, but Bucky didn't fight. He settled back down with his head on Steve's shoulder and yawned, "Just give me fifteen and we can go again."

Steve smiled. "You get ten, soldier." But after a few minutes Bucky was dead weight on Steve's chest, out for the night.


End file.
